The Bluebloods
by ReadingBetweenTheLines
Summary: *Sequal to the Game.* Joe never talks about her life before the FBI, and no one seems to know what the Underground is. What happens when her past creeps into her future?
1. Chapter 1

Dark lips ran over Joe's fingers. She smiled as she wriggled them. The lips flapped trying to capture them. She laughed.

"No treats today buddy. Sorry."

Domingo stared at his human through tendrils of black hair, dark eyes assessing her. Her blinked then took a few steps away from her, no longer interested in her. She dug into her pockets. Maybe she had forgotten about a treat that had been in her pockets. Nothing.

"Sorry boy," she untied the black rope halter and slid it over the horses nose, tying it the way Bryan had showed her.

Bryan had promised to ride with her today but his father had sent him into town all day and he hadn't been able to get back in time. She led the gelding toward the barn. He was still check in her for treats. His nose snuffled her pockets then the pockets of her sweatshirt. Spring had come but it still wasn't warm enough for short sleeves.

The FBI had decided to let her stay. She had been approached only days after the law pronounced Connor dead by a lawyer. He had told her that Connor's property had been willed to her. She shook her head again. Connor had never told her about this. Why had he left it to her? But then again, who else would he leave it to?

There was always the question of when he did this. It had almost seemed as though Connor knew something was going to happen. Maybe he knew that he'd betray the Gamer, or John Reef, as the FBI later found out when they captured him. Shivers ran down her spine at the thought of that awful man. The things he had done to her. She had never had the chance to tell Connor. He was the one person she felt she could spill her guts to and now there was no one.

As she walked into the barn Domingo tugged her toward the bundle of flowers that had been set on the bench in the barn.

"No boy. Those are for Connor. They will look nice next to the marble gravestone."

There had been no visitation and she had not been allowed to see his body before they buried him. Another unusual fact. She didn't know what to do with herself after Casey, Taylor, and Miles left.

It had been an ugly good bye, full of tears and promises to keep in touch. Though they all know that it would be nearly impossible. When they left she set to work restoring the castle that had been left in her care. Jen and Sam had been more than willing to help. In fact she'd be meeting them later today to work on it. There was extreme dusting that had to be done and the old, ratty tapestries were being removed.

Joe stepped into the tack room, taking in the unforgettable smell of sweat and saddle soap. She reached for the brushes Bryan used for his mare. Bryan had taken it upon himself to look over her. He refused to let her stay by herself at night in the castle. Sam and Jen usually took turns staying with her since Joe had refused to let Bryan stay.

Tonight there was going to be a party at the Forsters. Sam was completely blown away when her parents had announced the event. Joe happened to be the only person who truly knew the meaning of the party. It had been Jake's poor taste that had forced her come along with him to the jewelry store.

She ran a bristle brush over Domingo's gleaming coat. Despite the cool weather the gelding had completely shed out his whispy winter coat. After true realization of losing Connor had set in she had started spending more and more time with the gelding. Quinn had repeatedly joked that the horse the best dressed in all of Nevada. The money she had saved over the years and all of the money Connor had left her was being used to buy her own saddle and saddle pads. She had taken to polo wraps as well, loving all of the patterns and colors she could get. This just helped her keep busy, not letting her mind think about...things.

She took her saddle out of the tack room. She was getting stronger. She had signed up for a gym membership a few weeks ago and had started working. A couple years ago she was in to shape. She body muscled and toned beyond the average, though they way her body worked was far from average. When they placed her in isolation her muscles had deteriorated and her body weigh had dropped considerable. Now she was working to get her body back, and it wouldn't take long.

Behind her Domingo nickered. It had been a week or so since she had last ridden. A talent she had kept hidden for most of her life was art. She touch for painting was not equaled by many other people. Insomnia never helped.

Many times she'd wake in the middle of the night from a nightmare, resulting in many haunting paintings. For the short period she had been with Connor the dreams had been toned down. Some nights, such as the night she stayed with him in his apartment, she didn't have them at all. Joe glanced at the messenger bag that sat on the bench beside her favorite pair of polo wraps, zebra print. In the bag was a six by four inch sketch book that held many sketches. Most of Domingo or Three Ponies Ranch. A few pages, however, held dark images, dreams that came back to her memory in the middle of the day.

Some nights the dreams were worse than usual. There was always violence. People would be screaming in pain, their bodies writhing. Yet their bodies were tied to a table. Men standing around them with clipboards-

Joe jerked away from the saddle, shaking the thoughts from her head. She just wanted to focus on Domingo. She set her saddle pad on his back then swung up the saddle, fastening the girth. She reached for his bridle. The browband of the bridle was curved do into a point like the top of a heart. The conchos that held the meeting place of the browband of the bridle and the cheek straps was a silver heart along with the buckles. The pale tan leather bridle had been a gift from Bryan along with the purple nylon reins. It was a continuous rein, barrel reins he had called them, because she'd always managed to drop one of the split reins. The rein was round, slim, soft, and fit nicely in her hands. She ran her fingers over the side of the bit. Domingo wore a simple snaffle but the side round and decorated, another heart, the outside decorated with inset rhinestones.

Joe always smiled when he saw the bridle on her gelding, because she was sure that if he could speak he'd tell her how much a sissy he felt like wearing the bridle...but he'd tolerate it for her. Being as she was his girl and all.

She slid the bit into his mouth careful not to bump his teeth. Sliding his ears in she buckled the throat latch and checked her girth one more time. She put her foot in the stirrup and swung up, Domingo standing quietly. As she was patting his shoulder her cell phone vibrated. She knew exactly who it was calling her as she fished the phone out of her pocket. Bryan. He was probably calling again to apologize for not being here to ride with her, not that it really made a difference.

"Hey Bryan," Joe answered the phone as she swung Domingo toward her favorite trail. The path along the ridge that followed behind the ranches.

"Hey Joe," she could hear the smile in his voice, "I still can't believe Dad made me go into town even though I told him like two days ago I was riding with you today!"

Joe laughed, "I'm not going to die if you miss one ride with me."

"Yeah, well, I might," he grumbled as she heard in the background what sounded like a heavy sack hit a counter.

"At least Dom will still love you, being as you are bringing home his supper."

"Yeah. You still meeting Jen and Sam to work on that castle-thing before you go over the Sam's for the party?"

"Yep."

Joe knew that he'd be nodding at the other end of the line. He always did that when he wanted to drag out a conversation, and he was obviously doing that now.

"I've gotta go. Dom deserves my full attention."

"I guess," Bryan sounded reluctant.

"I'll see you tonight at Sam's."

"Yeah. I know. See you tonight, I guess."

"Bye," Joe tried to sound very positive as she hung up the phone. Bryan was really starting to get attached to her now. But was that such a bad thing?

Jen and Sam pulled up as she was untacking Domingo. Domingo stood in the center of the aisle, not hooked to the cross ties, dozing. She smiled at him as she walked into the tack room to set down her saddle.

"Hey!" Jen bounced over to her, "We came up with this like fabulous idea. Didn't we Sam!"

"It was more her than me," Sam admitted as she stood in front of Domingo, her hands in her pockets, rubbing his forehead.

"What is it?" Joe asked as she threw Sam a brush and grabbed one for herself.

"I think we should go shopping!"

Joe stared at her, eyebrow raised, "Shopping."

"You know my policy," Sam mumbled.

"Boo who! Some people actually like shopping Sam!"

Joe shook her head at their bickering, "If you guys want to go, I'll go. I certainly could use something nice to wear for tonight."

"Exactly!" Jen exclaimed, Domingo's ear twitched, "We all could I think it would be fun."

"Alright!"Joe smiled, grabbing Domingo's lead rope from his withers, "We'll go. I don't care."

"Great," Sam sighed, her hand falling to her side.

* * *

**This will get more exciting. I promise!! Just let me get this thing rolling. :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay. So this was written in bored so I rambled a little in some spots. Thats what happens when I'm bored. Don't know if that's good or not so I'm apologizing in advance. Enjoy!**

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Joe eased Jen's Civic into a parking spot. She's hated losing her car. It had been the worst part of the transition into the FBI. They had required that she sell it. It sold fast of course. The Chevelle was worth more than it sold for but she hadn't cared. She just wanted it gone.

Jen bounced out, her purse hanging on her shoulder, "This is going to be so much fun. We are going to find the perfect thing to wear for this weekend. I can't even remember the last time I ate lunch here."

"If we walk out with a dress that looks in anyway like the last one we left with, I will kill someone," Joe growled, throwing Jen the keys, who nearly missed them.

Sam smiled, "Oh come on! It wasn't that bad!"

Joe looked over her shoulder as she stepped into the mall, "Yeah, well, you weren't the one that looked like a whore."

The first store they went to was interesting. Fun of jeans and comfortable shirts. Though Joe bought a few pairs of jeans Jen insisted that she wear none of them to the party. The next store was a step fancier. None of the jeans had the destructed look to them. Jen found a blouse that complimented her nicely but again she insisted on moving on. Sam still had yet to find anything.

When Sam had moved away from them to look at shirts Joe pulled Jen aside.

"We need to find something really great for Sam,"Joe whispered.

"That's exactly what I think. He's never seen her all cleaned up, or at least very often. Oh God!" Jen gestured toward Sam, "What is she doing. That shirt is hideous!"

She skittered off to stop Sam from considering the shirt. Joe felt the thin fabric of a shirt near her. The hair on the back of her neck rose. A chill ran down her spine. Someone was watching her. She slowly let the fabric run through her fingers. She glanced over her shoulder. There standing near the entrance of the store was a young man, around her age.

Recognition sparked and her heart quicken. No. He was too small. He was muscular but not enough. He looked up at her but Joe was already gone. She crouched down behind the clothes rack. Who was he? She knew him! He was somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind.

She could hear heavy footsteps. She parted the jeans to see him standing feet away from her. She crawled into the center of the rack. Through the bottom she could see his shoes.

"I lost her," she heard him say.

She could here a faint electric respond. He was on the phone.

"All right. I just don't understand how could have lost her. I guess I was wrong. She's still the same."

He knew her. She hugged her knees to her chest thinking hard. Who was he?

"I'll find her. Alice has to be here."

Joe froze. No one. No one knew her by that name except for the before. Before everything. Before the FBI. The Underground. They knew her by that. She watched his feet move. She watched the worn leather shoes carry him away from her. If only the worry would be carried away with him.

"Joe?" Jen called out from somewhere in the store.

Joe bolted out of the clothing rack. Jen couldn't see her hiding. How would she explain? Jen smiled when she spotted her.

"Hey, what do you think of this?"

Jen held a sapphire dress up for Joe to admire. Joe's stomach turned slightly at the color.

"Who for?"

"You of course," Jen giggled, trying to hand her the dress but Joe side stepped her.

"I don't like it."

"Why not? Blue always looks amazing on you," Jen insisted shoving the dress toward her and motioning toward the dressing rooms, "Try it on."

"No," Joe snapped, her tone shorter than she had intended it to be.

Jen was slightly taken aback but quickly recover, "Oh...well I guess we can always find you something else."

"I think I already know what I am going to wear," Joe smiled, trying to make up for her attitude moments before.

Jen eyed her oddly, "Are you sure that you're okay, Joe? You seem kind of off."

"I'm fine," Joe reassured her, running her hand down the front of her jeans.

Jen glanced over at Sam, who was several rows over, examining a long sundress. Jen sighed, shaking her head.

"I just wish he would ask her already."

Joe blinked before she glanced at her, "Ask her what?"

"To marry him. I mean Jake has got to see that they were absolutely made for each other. I mean come on! He risked his life for her!"

Joe smirked, "He could surprise you."

"Ely never surprises me," Jen deadpanned, "He's very predictable."

Joe just stood beside her, nodding.

* * *

Joe stared at herself in Sam's mirror. Both Jen and Sam had dressed earlier. Sam wore the long green sundress that complemented her auburn hair with a white button up sweater, a gaudy gold necklace around her neck. Jen had decided on a jean skirt, leggings, and cardigan over her hot pink long-sleeved shirt.

Joe, however, had skipped over the skirts. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked healthy again. She was still underweight, but closer to what she used to be. It had been hard gaining back the right weight. Now she was all muscle. The workouts at the gym were paying off. She still had a long way to go if she were to get herself into the shape she had been in while she was in the Underground.

She smoothed the dark legs of her destructed skinny jeans. The jeans were slightly long, how she liked them, so they clumped slightly around her ankles and she wore high black pumps, the heel and sole a glittery purple. She had twisted her hair up and clamped in place with a huge black clip Sam had had sitting on her dresser. A few strands fell to frame her face.

She could stop staring at herself in the mirror. It was always so hard see herself as the girl that was pre-Underground. She'd never see that young woman again. She eased her hands over the satin fabric of her top. The neck of the shirt was off the shoulder, revealing smooth shoulders and collar bone. The deep purple shirt clung close over chest, a wide black ribbon was wrapped just below the breast, a satin bow in the back. Beneath the ribbon it bubbled out but came back to the band of the shirt that rested slightly above her jeans. She tugged it down more. The only she hadn't liked was that it was slightly short.

"Joe!" Jen called up the stairs, "You're on shrimp duty."

Shrimp? Joe thought as she descended the stairs, who could have brought shrimp. Jen stood beside a handsome young man. The brunette held a large platter of shrimp in his hands. Jen said something and he smiled and laughed. Jen's face colored.

Hmm, Joe smirked, someone has a crush. Joe eased forward to take the shrimp from him.

"Here let me take those for you so you guys can talk."

"Uh, Joe," Jen said, grabbing her arm before she could leave, "This is Ryan Slocum. He has half ownership of Harmony Ranch."

Joe smiled at him. This was the young man she had heard so much about.

"Jen has told me so much about you."

Jen stared at her, aghast.

Ryan laughed, "All good I hope."

Joe couldn't help but smile at the English accent, "Of course."

Joe strode into the empty kitchen. People were all outside watching the men build the bonfire. Taking a large bowl out the cabinet, Joe began plucking the frozen shrimp out of the platter and plunking them into the hot water of the bowl. She had made it halfway through the outer ring of shrimp when she heard footsteps.

"Hey," Bryan's voice was soft as he set a hand on her hip, "You look amazing."

Turned her head to look at him, smiling, "Thank you."

He bent his head and kissed her. Sweet and polite, almost timid. His kisses were never as deep and demanding as Connor's, who often took her breath away. It almost seemed as though Bryan felt he was risking her stability. Joe tolerated it.

Bryan was key to her sanity. If she hadn't had his love, especially in the first months, she didn't know where she would be. Severely depressed? Bryan squeezed her side before he quickly washed his hands. Taking a section of shrimp he began separating them and dropping them into the water.

"How was your ride?"

Joe smiled, remembering Domingo's curiousness on the trail, "Amazing as usual. He loves trail riding."

"I can imagine this must be completely opposite of his little world in the arena. Where did you ride?"

"The ridge trail. I love that one."  
Bryan smiled before pressing his lips to her forehead, "I'm so glad you took that horse. I don't think he could possible have a better home with a more caring owner."

Joe blushed at the compliment, "Thanks."

Bryan kissed her one last time before he dried his hands, "You taste like chocolate and strawberries."

Joe motioned toward the chocolate covered strawberries. One was missing from the top of the pile, "I couldn't help myself."

* * *

Sam seemed to be floating as she moved about the people in the yard. Joe smiled at her as she brought out the bowl of strawberries. Sam skipped toward her, a huge smile on her face. Joe glanced at Sam's hand. She sighed. Not yet.

"Is Jake here?" Joe asked, as Sam took the bowl from her and set it in its place on the table.

"No. None of the Ely's are. It's weird for them to be late."

"I'm sure they have a good excuse," Joe assured her.

Jen jogged out to them carrying the platter of shrimp.

"And Jen's boy brought the shrimp," Joe spoke just loud enough for Jen to hear.

Jen's face darkened red, "He's not my boy."

Joe and Sam exchanged incredulous glances, "Uh huh, and the sky is green."

* * *

Sam moved around the fabric of her skirt, the silken fabric rushing over her smooth legs. She glanced out toward the entrance of the bridge. Empty. Where was he? She sighed and moved toward the table that was filled with food. Obviously the Ely's weren't coming. But why not? It was nearly a once a year thing for her parents to throw a party.

Tires rolled over the old, creaking wood slats of the bridge. She whirled around, her skirt swirling around her. It was the Ely's truck. Each of the redwood boys sitting in the bed, broad smiles on their faces. Sam smiled as she strode toward the truck.

"'Evening Samantha," Mrs. Ely stepped out of the truck, "I'm sorry that we are late, we, um....had a little trouble getting the boys out of the house."

Sam glanced back toward the truck bed. Each the Ely boys was smirking at her, except Jake, who was looking away. Jake slowly climbed out of the back. Sam strode quickly toward him, flinging her arms around him.

"Hi Jake," she looked up to see him blushing.

She pulled away quickly. Of course she'd embarrassed him. She never usually did that to him, hug him in public, but she hadn't seen him in a week or so.

"Sorry," she mumbled turning to walk after the other Ely's who were joining everyone around the unlit bonfire.

A hand lightly grabbed her arm, "Sam."

Sam turned to him. His eyes were soft and his voice were quietly. His hand slid down her arms to intertwine with her fingers. He nodded toward the bridge and she followed him. His hand was warm and slightly moist, almost like a nervous sweat. She glanced up at him, his lips were pressed into a tight line. They were in the middle of the bride now, the others so far now you couldn't hear them laughing and joking.

"Jake what's wrong!" she pulled her hand from his and faced him.

His eyes met hers.

"Sam I need to ask you a question."

Sam narrowed her eyes at him, "What kind of question?"

"An important one."

"If it's about Joe I don't want to hear it. She has her secrets and I don't need to hear them."

"I'd be telling not asking."

"Then what do you want?" Sam snapped.

He smirked then moved to down on his knee. Sam gasped, her hands flying to cover mouth.

"Jake!" she shrieked.

Slowly he moved a velvet box out of her pocket.

"Yes! Oh, yes!" she dropped to her knees and flung her arms around him, "Yes!"

Jake shook his head at her as he pulled her away from him, "Just like you to not let me talk."

Jake slid the ring onto her shaking finger. She moved to get up but Jake stopped her.

"I love you."

Sam smiled at him, "I love you too."

She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him.

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**Review!!**


	3. Chapter 3

Joe strode slowly toward the front steps of the 'castle'. Truly it was just a huge stone mansion but Joe had loved the sound of it. Bryan's hand tightened around hers as they came closer to the step. Joe had to extricate her hand from his to unlock the large wooden front door.

"Do you want me to stay until Sam gets here?" Bryan asked softly, whisking a strand dark hair behind her ear.

Joe shook her head, "Nah, I'll be fine."

Bryan glanced out toward the darkness surrounding the house. Joe ran her fingers tips over his jaw line, moving his focus back to her.

"I'll be alone for like twenty minutes. I'll be fine."

Bryan heaved a sigh, "I don't know."

Joe stepped up to him and kissed him. The only thing she could try. The only thing that might change his mind. Joe pulled away from him, her eyes looking into his.

"Fine. But I want you to call me when Sam gets here. And if she's not here in and hour call me and I'll come."

"Bryan, nothing is going to happen," she said, hugging him, "But if it makes you feel better I'll do it."

"Thank you," he said, giving her a final squeeze before stepping onto the walkway.

Joe waved to him then stepped into the castle, immediately turning on the lights. She turned them on as she moved through the giant house. She stepped into her room not bothering to turn on the lights since it was well lit by the hall lights.

She stopped and pulled off her shoes. She threw them into the shadow in the corner of her room. They hit something. Something that was certainly not the wall. There was a nearly inaudible grunt, something only her ears could hear. Joe froze. Now she was really regretting sending Bryan away. In her current shape she might not be able to take on an intruder by herself.

She reached down and grabbed a wide pipe that had broken off the unusable radiator. Stepping slowly she wrapped her hands securely around it. As she stepped toward it she could make out the out line of a man, a well built man.

She swung hard, aiming for his head. Inhuman lightening quick reflexes caught the pipe before it collided with his head. For a single moment she paled, this was going to end badly.

"God, look at you."

The voice. It was the man from the store. He stepped into the light, his hand still gripping the pipe. She studied his face. Memories were flooding back. The darkness. The isolation. The pain. The experiments. Him. The others. The horror. Oh, the horror. Adrenaline surged through her veins at the memories. Worst of all, she remembered the asylum.

"I knew you would remember me. They said you wouldn't but I didn't believe them."

There was pride in his voice.

Joe's hand fell away from the pipe. All she could do was stare at him. Her past was standing there in front of her. Her past was pulling her back.

"I just can't believe how much muscle you have lost. I mean you weren't as buff as Carrie, I mean they screwed her over, but you were still stronger."

Joe shook her head at him, "You look a little soft too, Ian," Joe poked his bicep, only a slight give.

"Where is everyone? Or is it just you..."

"No," Ian responded, "They are around here somewhere. I drew the short straw. I don't know why none of them wanted to talk to you Alice. Then again, you were always the best fighter."

Joe sighed, "No one calls me Alice anymore. I go by Joe."

"Joe? Hmm, doesn't suit you. I'll stick with Alice. I like it better."

Joe shook her head at him. Just then she heard foot steps. She turned to see a glowing Sam step into the doorway.

"Hi Joe! Wasn't it a wonderful night!"

Joe had to hold back the gasp. She whirled back to Ian. He was gone. Damn, him and his stealthiness.

"Is something wrong Joe?"

Joe turned back to face the young woman, "No. Nothing at all."

* * *

Joe waved as Sam left. The second the car was out of sight she turned on the house. They were here. They had been here all night. She knew. She could feel it. The house was so big that Sam would never notice them, scary as that is.

"Come out you guys," she commanded, "I want to talk to you. All of you!"

Within a matter of minutes six people stepped into the entrance hall. Ian was like her. He was a Perfect. His body was perfectly shaped, sculpted and muscular, yet not excessive. Even though he was lighter than one of the other men in the group he was still one of the strongest, besides Joe. By the time the Underground had gotten to Ian they had perfected their works.

The body types came in pairs. Sarah and Riley were alike. Both were extremely tall and thin. They were the weakest of the group, though still strong. Their limbs seemed too long and there long slender fingers resulted in larger than average hands.

Howard and Annabelle were built nearly to the extent of a body builder. Howard certainly didn't mind but Annabelle hated it. It was easy to tell that the two had also come from the same round of experiments.

Finally there was one man. He was a veteran having been the first in the group to be brought to the Underground. He was guiding Sarah. Sarah was blind. When Sarah had arrived the Underground was experimenting on eyes, working to change the color. The serum they had injected into her eyes had resulted in blindness and swirled her hazel eyes with blue. Peter was the oldest of the group, being 29, and the closest to normal. They could depend on him for advice and guidance, being as he spoke with wisdom far beyond his years.

"Is it only you guys?" Joe asked them, her hands shoved into the pockets of her jeans.

Sarah nodded, "After you stayed behind during the raid everyone scattered. We were the only ones that stayed together. We waited for you...but of course you never came."

The FBI had raided the Underground and Joe had stayed behind to fight and ensure that everyone got out. The action had resulted in her being captured by the FBI.

"What are you guys doing here? I thought I had left this part of my life behind me."

Ian stepped forward taking a slip of paper out of his pocket, "Alice, we think that someone is trying to resurrect the Underground."

Joe turned numb. She took the slip of paper from him. _Tonight. Garles Warehouse. Come if you want be part of something that will change the way you live your life._ Come if you want to be part of something that will change the way you live your life. She let her hands fall to her sides. It had been the same offer the original Underground had made to many teenagers. They made it sound like an option, though it never was. If you didn't turn up to the meeting they would come after you.

"Where did you get this?"

"We found it in a warehouse. We'd been skipping back forth from place to place and it had been abandoned," Howard explained, "When we got there the placed looked a little roughed up. Annabelle was actually the one who found it."

Joe bit her lip, "You guys know what we have to do."

Ian nodded, sighing.

"We have to stop them."

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**If your confused it's totally okay. It will all be explained. If you do have any particular questions I will try to answer them the best I can (in my writing :])**


	4. Chapter 4

**So before this chapter I wanted to tell all of my reviewers how much I love you! You guys are amazing and it makes feel good! lol I really appreciate you guys reviewing. PhantomStallionCrazzy - the underground is a place where they are doing human experiments. Kayla - I've never heard of Flight Club. Is it a book or a TV show??

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**

Darkness. That's how they all began. Joe was standing amid a sea of darkness. This time her wrists were shackled. Fluorescent lights flickered on. She was in a small white room. Padding lined the walls and floors. Joe's chest tightened in fear. The door to the cell slowly swung open to reveal men in suits. They were smirking. Joe tried to stand or kick at them but each time she tried she became dizzy. She'd stumbled to the end of her chains then fall to her knees. Someone had her drugged.

The men grabbed her, forcing her to stand. A wave of nausea over came her and she felt as though she'd vomit. They tugged her down a dark corridor, her drugged body stumbling to keep. Each time she'd trip they'd jerk her harshly to her feet. The room they pulled her open consisted of a metal table, straps on the sides. Small, tall tables with wheels stood around the room, syringes and instruments scattered over their small table tops.

They shoved her onto the table and strapped her down despite her weak struggles. A 'doctor' strode into the room, a grin on her face.

"I've heard she'd be perfect for this."

"Just be careful, doc. She's insane."

The doctor picked up a large syringe from the table. A dark blue liquid fill the body of the syringe, a long needle on the end. Joe watched as he slid it into the skin. Dull pain. Her blurred mind unable to comprehend his actions. Suddenly there was pain, horrible pain, like ice running through her veins. She screamed.

Joe sat up quickly. Her chest heaved and a film of sweat covered her body. She ran her fingers over the veins of her wrist. The veins were darker and more prominent then that of normal humans. She tossed off the sheets and padded into the hallway. Her ran her hands over her arms. The layered tank tops she had worn to bed supplies nearly no warmth. The black sweat pants that she wore were dangerously low on her hips but she didn't care to pull them up.

She had sent Sam home that night. With Ian and the others there she was a hundred times more safe then with Sam. Sam, however, did not know of the others presence, so she had been reluctant to leave.

Joe flicked on the lights of her studio. Easels stood around the room holding canvases. Joe took down the dried paintings, not bothering to look at them as she did. She set them with the many other canvases in the corner of the room. Sitting down in front of an empty on she began to paint an image engraved in her head.

"The asylum."

Joe jumped at the sound of his voice, nearly dropping her brush. Joe swallowed hard and lowered her hand. She stared a the painting. She hadn't truly looked at what she had been painting. The haunting exterior of the asylum of the Underground stared back at her.

She turned to see Peter. She sighed and set down her brush. Peter ran his fingers over her shoulders before he began massaging the tense muscles. She rolled her shoulders back and relaxed a bit more. She looked up to see Peter studying the painting.

"The detail...It makes me feel like I'm there again."

She could feel him shudder.

"I never want to go back," Joe set her hands in her lap.

"I don't understand why they kept you, sadly. All us inmate heards some pretty bad stories about you. All in all though, I'm glad they did."  
"It was so lonely for me. When they put you in as my roommate you have no idea how thrilled I was."

"I was scared to death. Especially when I we heard the rumors about them testing on you."

Joe shook her head, "You afraid of little ole me?"

"They were 'breeding' you for killing, Alice, of course I was afraid."

"I don't really want to talk about this..."

"Are these dreams?"

Joe nodded.

"Your dreams usually come true."

"I know. I've not been sleeping very well," Joe gestured toward the many paint covered canvases, "These dreams...they worry me."

"Come on," Peter helped her to her feet, "Let's make you some hot chocolate and we'll talk."

Joe yawned, "I can't believe you remember."

Peter smirked, "Of course. How could I forget your number one comfort food."

* * *

Bryan hummed lightly as he strode toward the front doors of the castle. Today was a wonderful warm day. The sun shown brightly on his back. He strode lightly into one of the parlors to see Joe curled up on the couch under the arm of a man who looked years older than her.

"Joe?"

Her dark eyes fluttered open.

"I don't understand you," he growled, his voice broken.

* * *

Joe bolted up from the couch waking Peter. Bryan had disappeared through the door and she could hear quick footsteps down the hall.

"Bryan!" she yelled for him.

She broke into a run, sprinting after him. He had made it all the way down the magnificent steps of the entrance hall before she caught him.

"Bryan! Stop!"

He turned on her, his face red, eyes angry.

"You didn't let me explain."

"I never know if I can trust you," Bryan growled, "I never know when you are just going to leave me."

Joe was slightly taken back by his tone.

"I know that if Connor ever came back you'd chose him over me in a heartbeat."

"Bryan," Joe stepped forward to touch his arm but he wrenched it out of her grasp, "You have to understand. It's hard losing him. I've never clicked with anyone like that before."

"But I'm here now. I'm right here and you keep pushing me away."

"I'm trying."

"Well you sure as hell open yourself up to every other man!" his voice thundered in the huge hall.

"Bryan, he's known me for years. He's my past Bryan. He's like a father to me. The rest of them are my family."

"There are more?" he growled at her.

"Can we talk about that later?"

He glared at her, "Fine."

"Why can't I be part of your life?" Bryan looked away from her, his voice shaky.

"You are part of my life Bryan," Joe stepped closer to him.

"Which life?" he thundered at her, "Each time I turn around you are someone else. You're so-so duplicitous!"

"You're part of this life. The rest of those...I've been trying to escape them for years. They just keep coming back, haunting me. You just don't understand. You, Bryan, are so important to me."

"Yeah, sure," he scoffed.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

Bryan keep his face turned away from her. He took a ragged breath.

"Bryan. Please. Just look at me."

"How do I know?"

Joe stared at him, "What?"

"How do I know that you will return everything I feel? How will I know that every bit of me will be accepted and returned by every bit of you? I don't want to get hurt, Joe. I just can't trust you."

The words stung. A tear ran down her cheek, running over ivory skin. How could she change his mind. She couldn't lose him...

She grabbed his shirt sleeve turning him to her. His face was shocked as she pressed her lips hard against his. She kissed him with all the vigor, the anger, the hurt, the love that was pent up in her body. She poured all the emotion jailed in her body into it. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Finally, what she had been waiting for.

He responded. He kissed her harder, deeper than he ever had before. His hands were on her hips, pulling her up against him. One of her hands slid down to grab his shirt tightly as she arched into him, standing up in her toes. When they separated they were both breathless.

"Come on. I want you to meet my 'family.'"

* * *

Bryan stopped her just as she was about to enter the parlor.

"Hey," he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "I'm leaving. That's what I had come to tell you."

"What?" disbelief in her voice.

He laughed, "I'll be back. I've just got to leave for this stupid training thing for the station. For me to become a full time firefighter I have to pass this class. I'll be gone for like four days. It sucks."

"It's less time I get to spend with you," his lips brushed against hers.

She smiled, "I'll be here when you get back. I'm not going to leave you."

Joe could hear Bryan's phone vibrating in his pocket. He took it out and rolled his eyes.

"It's the boss...I better take it."

Joe hugged herself as she watched him walk away. He certainly wasn't nearly as built as Connor but Bryan certainly had a body to rival Ian. Speaking of...

"You know you can't sneak up on me like that right?"

Ian groaned, "You and your damned hearing. I'm never going to catch you by surprise."

"Nope."

Ian frown turned up into a smirk, "I am going to get you in so good of shape in these next four days that he's not even going to recognize you when he get's back."

Joe smiled, "You're not going to let it rest until I'm back in shape are you?'

"Nope."

Bryan eased himself in beside her, "Oh and I forgot to tell you that Sam wants you to be a bride's maid _and_ I told her you would be willing to help her plan everything."

Joe glared at him, "Isn't that what the maid of honor is for."

Bryan wrapped an arm around her and gave her a squeeze, "That also means you have to be at everything you help her to plan."

"I hate you."

* * *

**I hope its not moving to slow. It is going to start getting more interesting I promise. Review. :) it's good for the soul...**


	5. Chapter 5

**I really hate this chapter. It was really hard for me to write. I have a problem tranfering my thoughts to the page. lol**

* * *

Joe tugged at the shirt that she wore. Bryan was going to be home in a matter of hours and she couldn't find anything to wear. It was all too tight. Usually she wouldn't mind but her body had changed dramatically over the past four days. Ian's little 'boot camp' had regained her muscle mass, the muscle mass that she had had during the days in the Underground. Because of certain...enhancements...that her body had gained from those days she could put on muscle much quicker than an average human.

The muscles of her arms were well defined and she could feel the faint definition of abs on her stomach. She looked much thicker and healthier than the last time Bryan had saw her. It made her nervous. How was she going to explain it to him. She wasn't overly muscled but the difference was still very noticeable. A smile played on her lips. She looked strong now, but she had much more strength than her muscles _should_ be able to provide. Once again, she had the madmen in the Underground to thank for that.

Shaking her head she pulled off the T-shirt. This was wrong. It was all wrong. What was she going to do? Joe sat down in the middle of Connor's room, the dark carpet soft beneath her finger tips. She had taken it as her own. It helped her to feel closer to him. She glanced up at his closet. Maybe something of his would be small enough. Pushing herself up off the floor, she moved to his closet. His shirts were all hanging there. She refused to take them out. It was a silent defiance to his death.

She thumbed through them. A sigh escaped her lips. Nothing. She glanced up. Above her a box was labeled 'Paige.' She pulled the box down from the overhead shelf. This must have been his fiance. Joe set the box on his bed and opened it up. There were photos. Many photos.

Joe gasped as she snatched one from the pile. It was Connor before his accident. The photo she held of him was magnificent. He was leaning against the railing of a fence, mountains behind him. His face was breathtaking. There was no scar, no darkness fogging his eyes. But there was something else. Something bright. He was happy in that picture...truly happy.

Her heart sunk slightly. He had never been that happy with her. Maybe he had been afraid to give his heart completely to her in fear that he might be hurt again. Little did he know, Joe was his death wish. She couldn't bear to put the picture back in the box. She set it on the dresser, leaning it against Connor's deodorant so that she could see it. The box lay open on his bed. Taking the lid she set it back on top. She couldn't bear to go through photos of him right now.

Joe sighed and grabbed the black T-shirt she had tried on nearly half and hour ago and pulled it over her head. It's short sleeves didn't do much to hide the muscle of her arms and the jeans she wore fit tighter from the gain of muscle in her thighs and calves. She'd just have to think of something good to tell him.

* * *

Joe adjusted her T-shirt again. She couldn't stop fiddling. She sat across from Quinn at the restaurant table, where Bryan was going to be meeting her and his family. He had been staring at her for the past five minutes and it was making her uncomfortable.

"What?" Joe snapped, unrolling the napkin from her silverware.

"You just look different and I can't really place...why."

Joe shrugged, "I've been working out. Maybe it's finally starting to show."

"That's a big difference from when we last saw you," Nate spoke from the opposite end of the table.

Joe shrugged, "I dunno. It's just how my body works, I guess."

At the far end of the dinning room the entrance was opened. Bryan stepped through. He had changed as well. It was just a slight change in his muscles, just a bit more firm, but not the dramatic change like with Joe.

She stood, smiling at him. His face brightened and he strode quickly toward her. The second he was close enough he seized her, holding her tight against him.

"You've changed."

All the mental preparing, all the stories, everything she had worked up melted right at that instant. There was relief in his voice. He was glad. He was glad that she had regained the muscle.

"You are not surprised?"

Bryan pulled from her, "I heard Ian telling you he'd whip you into shape."

His eyes wandered over her, "And I think he did a fine job."  
Bryan sat in the empty chair next to her. Joe stood there slightly dazed. Even his brothers were more suspicious than him. Joe blinked then quietly sat down beside him.

* * *

They were nearly halfway through their food when she spotted him. Ian was standing slightly to the side of the entrance. Sarah was with him. She stood in the doorway. Her sightless eyes looking out into the dining hall. Ian's eyes were insistent, wide and staring.

"Bryan," Joe set her hand on Bryan's arm, slightly surprised at its firmness, "I'll be right back."

"Okay," he glanced quickly at her before going back to his conversation with his father.

Joe walked casually toward the bathroom. She could hear quiet footsteps behind her.

"You said we had to do something about the Underground, right?" Ian asked when they were out of sight of people.

Joe touched Sarah's arm so she knew where she was standing, "Yes I did."

"Well, we better do something soon," Ian muttered pulling a newspaper out of his back pocket.

_Six teens missing, families worried._

"They are getting braver," Joe growled, "They aren't just going for orphans."

Sarah shook her head, "I bet they are so scared."

Joe touched her arm nodding, "We have to go tonight. I think I can remember where it is. If I remember right, it's just outside of Reno."

Ian nodded, "Good. Come on Sarah. We'll let Alice get back to her dinner."

* * *

Joe had been quiet the whole ride home and it was worrying him. She simply stared out the window seeming to be in a whole other realm. He reached across the cab and took her hand.

"Is there something wrong?"

She slowly looked over at him. She seemed to be running words through her mind, like she wasn't sure what she should say. After a few minutes she sighed.

"I can't keep this from you forever. And of all the people, I think you deserve to know."

Bryan tensed slightly. There was something wrong...

"Can you pull over please?"

"Yeah."

Just a few miles ahead was a park, one that usually wasn't closed off at night. He pulled into a parking stall and turned off the car.

"Okay,"Joe unbuckled her seat belt and turned in her seat to face him, "Everything that I am about to tell you can be told to no one. I don't care if it's a matter of life and death."

Bryan sucked in a breath. Did she get herself into something illegal. Was she taking some kind of steroid? Maybe that was why she had gained so much muscle mass...

Joe breathed in deep.

Bryan took her hands in his, "You can tell me anything."

Joe nodded, "Okay. My real name is Alice Wright. When I was 17 I got this note. It told me that if I went to this certain place that my life would change for the better. I didn't think much of it but then, two months later, I was kidnapped from the orphanage I lived in. When they were in the process of kidnapping me they were extremely rough and when they shoved me into the trunk they mashed my head against the trunk door," Joe ran her fingers over a scar near her temple, "And the doctors think that's what triggered my schizophrenia. That and the traumatic event.

"The doctors that I'm talking about are the madmen of a place called the Underground. The Underground is an old factory that they built an underground haven underneath. They kidnapped tons of orphans. I can't believe people didn't notice. Because of my 'disorder' they shut me off in a wing of a plantation house that was owned by the people who used to own the factory. In the factory they did a lot of...experiments. One thing that they did to me was shock treatments. I know that science proved that that didn't help schizophrenic people but that didn't stop them. Sometimes, I can still feel it. The terrible feeling of electricity running through your body."

Joe shuddered and Bryan's hand tightened around hers.

"I feel like the treatments brought on the dreams that I had but I could never explain why they would come true. There were so many dreams that were accurate to the future. It was almost terrifying. I would get terrible migraines as well. These migraines would cause me to be irritable and aggressive. I had attacked more than one of the 'nurses'.

"They started running their experiments on me. They had left me alone from them for the first year. They were still in the process of perfecting them on other 'specimens'. I'd heard more than once that I was ideal for them. Something about my genetics. I never truly figured it out. But I responded to everything how they wanted me to."

Joe grazed her fingers over the well defined muscles of her biceps.

"They started with injecting some blue serum into my blood stream. It's resulted me bleeding blue...The serum accelerates my healing. Next they injected into my muscles. It made the muscles more pronounced but it made the energy to mass ratio change. Now I'm more powerful than Howard, who is built like a body builder (because of unpredictable experiments). They also injected into my eyes. I was born with the greenest eyes...now they are blue, almost white.

"Then they toyed around with me a bit more. My sight and hearing is super sharp. I run faster and longer than the average person. It seems as though all of my natural abilities have been heightened. I-I'm a freak. I'm never going to be normal," Joe retreated back from him, sucking back against the car door, her hands clutching her stomach.

It was as though saying it out loud was making the situation all the more real to her. Tears streamed down her face. She dropped her face into her hands, her dark hair falling in her face. It broke his heart seeing her like this.

"Joe, you don't have to tell me this," he moved her chin up to look at him, "I don't need to know."

"Yes. You do."

He leaned across the center counsel and kissed her affectionately, "If you insist."

"One day, the FBI invaded the Underground, I don't know why. I was never told, but the friends I had made there were my family, the closest thing I had to it, and I was not about to lose them. I made sure that each of them got out. But Sarah, she was having a very hard time, because she's blind. (She was a victim of the first round of eye shots.) So I had stayed behind to make sure everyone got out because I knew that no one was going to help her. In the process I was captured by the FBI. It was like they were bringing down an animal, the way they handled me.

"I was with them for a few years. It didn't take them long to see my potential and they pulled some strings and got me working for them. Thus, me ending up with Jake. But before that I worked undercover. My first and only true uncover job was working for a killer, well known in his industry. Someone you better know as the Gamer.

"When I worked for him my name was Elise Miller. I was his right hand man. There were all of these things, these hoops I had to jump through before I got to the level where he would really trust me.

"He was the one who put the tattoos on my back. God. All the time I worked for him and I never saw his face...I don't know why but he was always a voice or shadow. Never a face. All I knew was that he needed me for something. There was something about me he knew he could use. I just don't know what or why.

"I got in a little too deep. They were fearing that my cover would be blown. They were about to pull me out when my partner was killed. That was the butterfly. It caused a rippling effect in my life. Again. Everything came back. I was handling the schizophrenia just fine but then he started messing with my head. It was my first time coming into contact with the real Gamer. All along he was just playing as a nice guy, a good boss.

"He started showing me maps and clues. He wanted me to find something for him. He knew I was detective, before I even knew. It still haunts me. I never found it. I guess I'll never know what he was looking for...It wasn't long after that I was assigned Jake, just before they put me into solitary. They told me it was because the Gamer had blown my alias but I know it was because of my condition. Something the Gamer was doing was causing a flare up. They called it a psychiatric leave.

"It was the most embarrassing day for my life, walking out of the office with my cardboard box filled with the contents of my desk. Then I sat in a damn apartment until the day that girl, Rachael Slocum, was killed. She was the butterfly."

Bryan was silent as he tried to adsorb the information, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because tonight somethings are going to happen and I wanted you to know the truth."

Bryan watched her wipe the remaining tears from her face. Whatever is going to be going on tonight is not going to be good.

**Ahh, so now you finally know...I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions. If you find this confusing please ask questions. I tried my best to make everything clear. Please ask if you don't understand something! :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**I am sooooooo glad to finally get another chapter up for this story. I feel like I have been neglecting you guys! I have just been trying to write a story that is worthy of a hundred reviews. (And I am getting no where with that! bahahaha) I would really love to write a story that is worthy of that many (though I doubt I will) lol I envy you writers that have! **

**I feel like this chapter sucks and so does my writing. :/ Ugh. Whatever. Enjoy. :)**

* * *

Joe studied herself in the mirror. She despised what she had become. The girl in the mirror was not the one she had worked so hard to become. The girl in the mirror was the one she had tried to leave behind. The girl in the mirror was a ghost of her past. Her black jeans stuck close to her legs like a second skin. A hand gun was strapped to her thigh and a knife on the other. Her fingertips were wrapped; the skin of her fingertips wasn't ready for climbing. Her shirt clung tightly to her and her hair was braided in a crown around her head, making sure that each strand was tightly secured. Nothing could fall across a sensor or laser.

With a sigh she picked up her bag and put it over her shoulders and clipped the strap around her waist. Ian leaned against the doorway.

"What's in the bag?"

"My past," Joe snarled, walking past him and into the hallway where the others waited.

"We are at you command, General," Howard smirked, giving her a mock salute.

It hadn't been hard for her to find it. The images were burned into her memory. She would never forget the day she tried to run. She had made it all the way to the city before they caught her. She remembered the beating, the screaming pain on her skin as lashings reigned down on her body, each harsher than the blow before. The single event beat down any want to run again.

She remembered the cemetery. How a single crypt, far back in the corner among the rotting gravestones of centuries old characters, led to the underground world. One small stone structure led to the ruins of a gruesome time.

They followed close behind her. Ian directly behind followed by Annebelle and Howard then Riley. Sarah had to be left behind for her own safety. Lucky, Bryan had agreed to stay with her, though it had taken some good lies to convince him to. She could not tell him what they were doing.

Joe eased open the gate of the cemetery. It was such an old cemetery that they city stopped caring about locking the gate. Gravestones close to the gate had fallen prey to ruthless vandals, the surfaces defaced with spray paint.

Ears alert she moved slowly toward the back of the cemetery, stepping over crumbling gravestones. Her footfalls were silent, never stepping across a stick or leaves. A slight thrill ran through her body. Something about this, about doing this, rose up old memories. This is what she had been trained to do.

She ran her fingers over the face of the crypt. She dug deep in her memory but she couldn't remember how they had opened it when they had hauled her back in. All she could remember was sound. They had blindfolded her.

She studied the surface again. Her body went rigid, muscles taught. She knew those numbers. The long columns of numbers set into small squares. Joe caught her breath as she ran her fingers over the stone. These exact numbers had been inked down the right side of her back. It seemed useless when she had first seen what the Gamer had marked on her back. Random numbers, never repeated, were bolded in random spots on the columns. At the very bottom, separated from the rest, was a line of numbers, no numbers repeating.

She could remember those numbers in the blink of an eye. She had burned them into her memory through the long hours of staring at them in the mirror trying to understand their significance.

She set her finger on the first number in the sequence. Nothing happened. Eyebrow quirked she pressed on it. It slid in slowly, scraping quietly as it moved. Ian drew in a deep breath as he watched her. Joe quickly pressed the rest of the numbers. After the final numeral was slid, a dull click could be heard on the opposite side of the door.

Howard stepped forward and pressed on the door. It slid to the side with minimal complaint. Joe dug into her bag and pulled out a small flashlight. Clicking it on she shone the ray on the tunnel ahead of them. What seemed to be an endless flight of stairs plunging downwards into the darkness. Annabelle shivered as Howard moved into the lead.

"This is a little creepy in the dark," Annabelle commented, remembering that the FBI raid had been during the day.

Joe nodded in agreement. Howard took the flashlight from her and began descending the stairs. Joe moved along slowly behind him. They had to be careful. Her ears were working overtime trying to catch every little sound. Her footsteps were unheard but the others were not as quiet.

With each scrape or plop of their feet she would flinch. Even Ian, who's skill was supposed to rival her own, was having trouble concealing the sound. Howard signaled for them to stop then moved aside so Joe could see the door. Another number combination. Again she recognized the numbers. They were inked over her left shoulder blade.

How had he known? How had the Gamer discovered their codes? Most importantly, why was he using her skin to remember them? Did he not know where the Underground was? Did he know that she did?

Joe quickly typed in the numbers of the code. There was another dull click and Howard slid back the door. This one took a bit more force. Joe directed the beam of light into the dark room. There seemed to be no end to it in the dark.

"I don't like this," Joe whispered stepping in front of them.

She reached into her bag again and pulled out a stronger flashlight. Handing the smaller one to one of her companions she clicked on the bigger one. This one reached the ends of the room. It wasn't as large as she had though it was. Its low ceiling hung close to their heads. Joe scuffed her toe against the dirt floor. She needed to know what the traction in this room would be. Just in case. Ian stepped forward.

"Which door?"

Joe shrugged, "I don't know. Someone choose one."

Behind them Annabelle was mumbling something under her breath. Joe looked back at her. She could hardly see the heavily muscled girl in the dark.

"That one."

Joe smiled at her.

"What? It's the best way for me to make a decision."

Joe followed the girl's pointing finger. It was directed toward the last door. Joe nodded movimg quietly towards it. She motioned for Howard to point the light at the doorknob. She dug in her bag, pulling out a small leather one.

The group watched her intently as she pulled something out of the bag and stuck it into the lock on the door. She had always been the best locksmith. It was rare to find a lock that would challenge her.

Ian laid an appreciative hand on her shoulder when the lock surrendered with a click. Joe smiled as she opened the door. She took out her flashlight. The second she had laid her hand on the doorknob she had gotten a bad feeling in her stomach. The hair on the back of her neck was bristling. They weren't alone.

Joe clicked on her flashlight. The beam struck on faces. Joe jumped. There were so many faces. All of them were staring right at them, malicious looks on each one.

"Oh shit."

The words were barely out of her mouth before the faces were moving toward them. In a flurry of movement Joe shoved her friends back. She had to get them out of here. Hands were groping her, trying to find a place to get a good grip on her. Her fingers scraped the metal door but the wraps were making it hard to get any traction.

She slammed to door shut just as someone got a grip on her braid, wrenching her backwards. She kicked out hard. There was a crack and a scream. Each time she managed to fight off one minion two more took their place.

There was no doubt in her mind now the Underground was back on its feet again. They were the only ones that could be behind these supercharged teenagers. Someone struck the back of her head hard. She tried to fight the creeping darkness but it soon overwhelmed her. Everything went silent.

* * *

Moaning she rolled onto her side. Her head ached. She moved her hands up to craddle her head. Her braid was gone. Slowly she pushed her self off the soft mattress. Blinking against the light she looked around. She was in a white washed room, a mirror on one wall and a bed in the corner. The Underground was more inviting now…

She shook her head. Why do they even bother? Joe pushed herself off the bed. Her hands…they were wrapped. It took her only a few seconds to know why. They were wrapped for fighting. So they knew who she was…

The last time they had wrapped her hands like this she had been part of an exhibition. As their prided fighter they had used her for many demonstrations. She looked down at herself. She wanted to gag.

Black Spandex shorts and a sports bra, different clothes than she had been wearing. She reached for the hoodie that sat folded on her bed. They remembered. Whoever was running the Underground now knew her. They knew that she never liked revealing so much of her skin. Joe tugged the hoodie over her head and pushed up the sleeves. Now for these bandages. Just as she reached for the wraps her door was pushed open.

Joe whirled around. Three large men were moving toward her. Joe sprinted to the side, trying to avoid their grabbing hands. One of them got a hold of her hoodie, pulling her back roughly. Another gripped her hair tight at the base of her neck. Joe whimpered, surrendering.

Still holding her hair, he shoved her out into the hallway. She knew where they were taking her. They were taking her to the ring. The gladiator arena, as the previous Underground prisoners had once called it. Only one person walked away from a fight.

She let herself be pulled along. There was no sense in fighting them. The lights in the ring were searing. Her eyes were slow to adjust to the bright lights. People lined the Plexiglas around the ring. They were here to watch. To learn. Up above all of them was a dark room.

In that dark room sat the mastermind behind this all. How badly she ached to get in that room. To get her hands around his neck. The door on the other side of the ring opened. A bright light from behind her companion left him a silhouette. Her body went rigid at the sight of his huge, muscled form. Her breath caught in her throat. He was the largest man she had ever seen. Only one other person could rival his size…

Her heart nearly stopped.

It couldn't be possible.

* * *

**O.o **


	7. Chapter 7

****

I wanted to get this up sooner but I have been super duper busy and I'm working a book of my own so I'm hoping when school starts things will slow down and might have time to write more! lol ENJOY!

* * *

All the breath in her lungs rushed out at the sight of him. Connor. Joe felt as though she were going to collapse. Nothing could have ever prepared her for the sight before her.

Connor looked like the mighty archangel standing in amongst the light. His hair curled away from his face in silver wings. He stood before her, shirtless, gym shorts slung low on his hips. His hands, wrapped similar to her own, we clenched, exaggerating the huge muscles of his arms and chest.

Her fingers twitched at the sight of his bare chest. She wanted to touch. She wanted to know if he was truly real. All this time of depression and here he was standing before her. His chest…scars littered the hard surface of his chest, ranging from long thick scars to small puckers. The gunshots.

She moved towards him, almost automatically. Her mind wasn't working. Real thoughts weren't running through her head. All she could see, all she could think of, was Connor.

He was supposed to be dead.

There was something different about him, she noticed as she moved closer. There was something dark and crazed in his eyes. Even as he stared at her now there was no spark of recognition, nothing that could prove that he had ever known her.

Moving towards him had been her first mistake. All of her training, all of her instincts, were crazed at this movement but her heart was making this decision, not her head. The second she stepped within striking distance, Connor's fist swung out towards her face.

She realized it too late. She managed to move out of the way of the blunt of the blow but his knuckles still glanced her cheekbone. She stumbled backwards, not truly hurt but more surprised.

She barely had time to bring her forearms up in front of her face before Connor was swinging again. Each hit harder than the next. The rally of hits was painful, each hit striking nearly the same spot each time. She couldn't help each grimace that followed each hit.

She moved backwards, back pedaling. She moved far enough to be out of his reach. He may think that he has power on his side but, enhanced or not, Joe was still faster.

She moved quickly, easily getting behind. It was the perfect time for blow. With what the Underground had done to her she could bring down a man as large as Connor in a single hit, maybe two, but she couldn't bring herself to strike him.

Connor twisted in place, bring his leg up and threw out a roundhouse kick meant for her head. Joe ducked and dove out from in front of him. She rolled to her feet fists raised.

The crowd was screaming. There was no doubt that the match would excite them. From the outside it seemed as though she were unevenly matched. That Connor could easily overpower her.

Connor charged her. She easily sidestepped him. She shoved him just enough to throw off his momentum causing him to stumble to the ground. Joe backed away from him, her arms up ready to defend herself.

Connor was immediately to his feet. Again he was throwing one punch after another at her. He grunted in exertion, each blow should have been bone breaking. Joe kept her arms raised, protecting her face but she could move fast enough to avoid the blow to her gut.

She cried out and her defense faltered. He immediately took the opportunity, his large hand wrapping around her throat. He lifted her off the ground, his hand tightening around her throat.

She fingers scratched at his, trying pry them away. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She couldn't hold back the pain. It hurt too much.

"This is a prime example of how, despite your…improvements…a well trained human can still take the upper hand. Now let's see how he finishes her off."

Joe remember that voice. It came from that single dark room. There was a man in there that narrated the fights. Usually he explained the entire match to the crowd. These fights were usually used as an education field trip from training. Now, instead of her being the one with upper hand, as it had always been, she was the one who not be walking away.

She let her hand fall from Connor's. She wouldn't fight this. She could hurt him. She let her eyes fall shut as it became harder and harder to breath. Images were flashing behind her eyes. She saw Sam, cowering in that small room not knowing if she would ever go home to her family. She saw Jake and Bryan, their sorrowful looks when she did not return home. She thought of Ian and the others. She thought of poor Sarah.

Anger sugared through her veins. Love of her life or not, he had no right to take her away from the ones that loved her, truly loved her.

Joe's eyes flashed open, a fire burning deep in them. Gritting her teeth she brought her knees up. Before Connor knew what was happening she had her feet on his chest. She pushed as hard as she could. Her thighs screamed at the effort but it worked.

Connor's huge body fell backwards and his hand left her throat. Joe managed to twist her body and land on her feet. Connor's surprised left him slightly stunned. He was slow to get up.

Joe hand her arm around Connor's throat and she pushed his head forward with her other hand. He tried to struggle but she held his head firmly. Within minutes his body still and his head rolled to the side. She released him, not wanting to kill him. She moved away from his unconscious body in disgust. This was not Connor. They had have done something to him, brainwashing maybe.

The real Connor would never strike.

"And this my friends," the voice from the room was smug, "Is why we love this girl so much. This why she is the best."

Joe stared up at the room. She knew that cowering behind that glass a man was staring right back at her. The crowd was going crazy. They were cheering for her. They thought of this as a game. Joe's eyes fell on Connor's body. She could feel tears building but she blinked them away. This was not the time.

Men were entering the arena. Three of them were struggling to move Connor's big body. The two others were advancing towards her. She backed. They were not going to touch her.

She stepped back into one of them. She blinked. How did he get there? There was prick and she looked down to see a needle in her arm. She jerked away but it was too late. The serum had already been injected.

She lept forward to sprint away from them but the serum worked quickly. Within a few steps she stumbled and fell to the ground. Unconscious.

* * *

**What do you think?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Kinda short :(**

* * *

"I told you she'd be great."

Joe rolled her head to the side. She was lying on something but she didn't know what. Everything was fuzzy. She had been drifting in and out of consciousness but this was the first time she could hear anything.

She tried to move her arms but the didn't budge. Was she paralyzed? Her forearms hurt but she couldn't remember why. Her rolling head stilled and she drifted back into the darkness.

* * *

"So what is this serum going to do?"

Joe wanted to groan but no sound left her throat.

"It should enhance every bit of her. She'll be faster, stronger than she, or and other of our experiments for that matter, has ever been."

"Let's hope it works."

"There is one way to tell if it works"

Joe clenched her fists. Why did her arms hurt so badly? And her neck, every time she turned her head it ached.

"Oh? And how do we tell?"

"If I drop a match on her and she doesn't burn."

"What?"

"It's something I've been working on for a long time and I think I might have perfected it."

* * *

White. She opened her eyes to see white. At first it was a blur. She couldn't make out the dark blobs in her vision. Slowly, they took form. There was a beeping machine beside her. A line on the face of the monitor was spiking at an even rate.

A man was moving toward her. She tried to care but she felt so weird. Her head was light and her limbs prickled. She watched as he took a syringe out from behind his back and flicked it, careful to remove any bubbles.

She knew that needles were bad. Anything that came from a syringe meant pain and change. She wanted to fight it as he moved the needle to the veil in her arm but she couldn't gather the strength. She watched as the blue liquid disappeared beneath her skin.

She blinked. Nothing happened. Suddenly, a wave of heat spread over her body. She pulled hard against the leather constraints that held her down, the reason she could not move her limbs. She screamed, her back arching away from the table. Her head fell back and her eyes rolled into her head.

This was worse than any that had ever been done to her before. It was even worse than the blood change. It seemed as though she were burning from the inside out.

Finally, the burning ceased. Her chest rose and fell unevenly as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Moaning she let her head fall to the side. She stared down her arm. She could see the small red dot on her arm where they injected the hellfire. Another, painful moan escaped her lips.

Men were bustling about the room. The after effects of the serum were leaving her drowsy. Her body ached all over now. She wanted to cry but she could find the tears.

A man appeared near her hand with a fresh book of matches. Suddenly the conversation she had overheard earlier came back to her. The man was staring at her face in surprise. No, not at her face but somewhere else near her face. She squinted up at him. What was he gaping at? She felt normal.

"Note the change in hair color."

Joe blinked. Change in hair color? She had forgotten she had even had hair at all. Damn that sleeping serum!

The man struck the match, letting the fire at the tip gain a little strength. She watched in horror as he dropped the match. The match settled on her bicep. Nothing. The match sat atop her skin, burning. The small flamed danced and licked at the ceiling, burning down the wood, but all she felt was tingling.

Her eyes widened. What had they done to her? All she could do was watch.

Somewhere in the room she could hear one of the doctors' scribes writing frantically.

* * *

Connor paced back and forth in his small room. What had he done? He hoped that whatever he had done had worked. Joe shouldn't trust him. Not anymore. He could get her hurt. Killed even.

He plopped down on his bed, hands on his knees, face in his hands. God, how much he had wanted to touch her, to hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right. But that would be a lie.

If his employer knew about her, if he even knew about where he was now, that would be the end. If his boss knew about Joe it would be the end of her.

He stood again. He couldn't stay still. His nerves didn't allow for it.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the white wall of his prison. He wasn't supposed to care about her. He was supposed to find this place, which he had succeeded in doing.

Joe had never been part of the plan. If his damn friend hadn't set him up with her none of this would have ever happened. Had his friend known about her when he had done that? Had he known that she was part of this place?

He shoved himself off the wall and began pacing again. Everything he had told Joe had been a lie. There had never been any girl before her. There had never been a Julia. She hadn't been there during his recovery from his accident. The scar on his face had been the result of a violent fight with a blueblood, not some usual accident.

He crouched down, his hands on his head. Oh what a headache. The fight had been too much. He had never dreamed of hitting her, and certainly never had thought he could ever strangle her.

He wouldn't have killed her. He knew when he'd had to release her before she suffocated.

This was all to protect her. If she ever found out, if she ever knew what he really did for a living, she would be devastated. She could never know that it was his job to exterminate her kind. His job was to hate the bluebloods. He was supposed to be out for blood but he couldn't do it anymore.

Not after meeting her. Not after falling in love with her.

* * *

**O.o What do you think about that?**


	9. Chapter 9

Dizzy and disoriented, Joe stumbled to her feet. She felt different. Her vision was still blurred as she tried stared down at her hands. Involuntarily her knees buckled. Falling to her knees, her head fell forward as she tried to gather her thoughts. White fell in front of her eyes, keeping her from seeing in front of her. She grabbed at it, trying to pull it away.

Her hands recognized the silky smooth of her hair. White hair. She remembered now. They had changed her again. Joe tried again to move to her feet but she couldn't. Instead she crumbled, falling to the floor. She laid still, trying to catch her breath.

She had been drugged.

"Why do you have to keep her like this?"

It was a young voice, teens maybe. Male.

"The idiot of a boss I've got decided he wanted her even more powerful. The bitch could probably kill me with a flick of her finger. We have to keep her sedated for our safety," an older voice spoke with malice.

"What about me. You said I have to tell you when the sedatives wear off. Couldn't I get hurt," the boy whispered.

Joe could hear the older man clap a hand on the boys shoulder, "No one cares about a weak cripple. Believe me, you won't be missed."

Joe could hear someone walking away and the sound of a door closing. She continued to lay there, neither having the strength nor the ambition to lift herself from the floor.

"Come on," she could hear the boy's voice waver, on the verge of tears, "Let's get back on that bed."

She tried to train her unfocused eyes on him. From what she could make out through the fuzz, he was a thin boy with what seemed to be a limp. He pulled her up into the sitting position, allowing her to lean against him.

"I don't think you are as much of a monster as they say you are," he spoke softly, brushing the hair from her eyes, "I've known some horrible people in my life and I don't think you are one of them."

"You could be," he said as he helped Joe to her feet.

Leaning on him, Joe managed to stumble back to the bed. She sat back against the wall trying to catch her breath. Trying to force the puddle of saliva down her throat she watched him.

"Why?" she stammered through pants.

"You didn't kill that man in the ring. You had every reason to. But you didn't."

Ian stumbled back through the graveyard, the rest close behind him.

"Ian!" Howard shouted at him, "We can't just leave her there! Do you know what they will do to her."

Ian turned to them, "They won't kill her! They need her. They will kill us though. We need to get out of here."

"Ian, wait!" Annabelle wrenched him around to face her, "I am not leaving her. After everything she has given up for her I would gladly give my life to get her back!"

"Annabelle we do not have enough fighting power to get anywhere close to her. Joe and I had miscalculated how many bluebloods would be down there. We thought the place would be practically empty. But we were wrong. We need to get a team together. Does anyone know how to get a hold of any of the originals?"

They glanced at each other, nodding.

"I've been in touch with a few. I'm sure we could get a hold of most the them."

"Okay guys," Ian rubbed his hands together, "Are you ready for a reunion?"

**Sorry i no it is shor tbut i wrote in a hurry. please review :) its discouraging when i don't get many**


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